Chapter 3

The Pokemon Center in Pallet town is nothing like the ones in basically every other city. The one in Pallet is much smaller, with a lobby, a back room for where all the Pokemon are healed, and an upstairs lounge. At all times, the downstairs has a handful of trainers inside, no matter how late the hour.

I was the newest addition to roll in at what was nearly three in the morning.

All eyes fell on me when I went inside. The girl behind the front desk stared in wonderment as she watched me carry the Poochyena. She suddenly stood with a sense of urgency. I guess you could say I fed off of her energy, speeding up my pace as I made it to the front desk.

"What do we have here?" she said, calm yet unnerved.

"It's kind of a long story," I told her. "Can you heal it?"

The lady behind the desk looked at me funny.

"It?" she repeated. I sighed.

"It's not mine," I told her. "It's complicated."

She looked even more confused, then looked mournful when she heard it whimpering in my arms.

"Poor little Poochyena," she said. She looked up to me. "Who's is it? I can't do anything unless I have the proper paperwork filled out for the Daisy Machines."

I'll be honest with you. I didn't know what the fuck she was talking about, but I went along with it. I just had to assume that whatever a Daisy Machine was it was able to take care of the wounded Pokemon. Again, in my defense, I never grew up with Pokemon. They were evil, remember?

"I don't think she belongs to anyone," I told her. "I found a her with a couple of kids. They were trying to..." I stopped, leaning a little closer. "They were about to Zeus her."

The young lady behind the desk slapped a hand over her mouth in utter shock.

"They what?!" she blurted.

"They ran off," I told her. "I tried to catch them, but I didn't have time."

A horrible lie. I didn't feel like explaining that I didn't even bother. That would have made her ask why, and then I would have just blatantly told her I was going to kill myself anyways, so what the fuck would it matter? I decided sticking with a lie was better than the full truth.

"Did they... penetrate?" she asked wearily.

"I don't think so," I said. The lady wasted no time, reaching under her desk. She brought up a Pokeball that was minimized. I watched, amazed how it grew as she twisted the top half of it, making it expand in size. It was now three times larger. She held it, with the ball popping open. I didn't panic as much as I probably should have, watching as the Pokemon in my arms suddenly turned into a red light, being sucked into the Pokeball without warning.

The girl working behind the desk held the ball, examining it closely. It didn't move at all.

"Poor thing isn't even put up a fight," she said. She looked back up to me, giving a weak smirk. "At least now she can be healed. Stay there; I'll be right back."

She stood up from her chair behind the desk, making her way to a door on the back wall. I assumed that's where all the healing took place. I stood there for a moment, looking over my shoulder. Two trainers were staring at me. One was a girl with a bright yellow pony tail, the other was a guy wearing a sweatband and jogging clothes. An odd couple, to say the least.

"Did that really happen?" The guy asked. I nodded.

"Yeah," was all I said. I didn't want to waste time talking. I looked to the entrance, tempted to just walk out and do what I had already set out to do. The Poochyena was fine now. I could go about my business. But I didn't leave. I did as I was told, for whatever reason, just waiting for the woman behind the desk to return. Nothing that day made much sense. I decided that I wasn't going to end my life like I originally planned. Another day, I supposed.

"That's so messed up," the girl said, shaking her head. She raised her left hand, unintentionally showing off her Holly Band around her wrist. Said open hand balled into a fist. "People who take advantage of Pokemon are the scum of the world!"

"Settle down, Amanda," the guy said. "Breathe."

"Oh, I hate Pokemon abusers!" she burst. "I hate them! I hate hate hate them!"

The two of them went back and forth for a while, giving me time to take a few side steps away.

A few trainers sitting on the couches near the entrance were exchanging small talk. I was so distracted by trying to listen in on what they were talking about that I didn't have time to notice the Chansey that was standing right next to me.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, making me turn. I jumped back a bit as if confronted with a monster. Standing before me was the figure of a woman- a very attractive woman I might add. Though she had the curvature of a regular woman, she had mixed features that stood out. Her skin was a vibrant pink, with a bit of paper white coloring underneath her chin. She had hair that was an even darker pink the whooshed out to the side with a sort of upward curve. Around her neck looked like some sort of strange choker. She was a Chansey in the form of a human- her anthro form, to be more exact.

You see, some Pokemon have the ability to switch forms- from their regular monster forms to their human-like forms. How do they do it? How can they do it?

Look, stop asking so many freaking questions and just let me tell the story. Okay?

"Would you like a refreshment?" she asked me, derailing my train of thought. I was bewildered. It was talking and not just saying its name over and over again. My mom's voice greeted me once more.

They chant because they're evil! I heard her voice yell inside my mind, distracting me for a moment. They're chanting to channel their evil powers of death and destruction!

"Um..." I didn't know what to say.

"We have ice tea, water, and even sports drinks, free of charge!" she chirped with a kind of excitement that was foreign to me. She acted as though she enjoyed her job.

I didn't know that was possible for a Pokemon, let alone a human.

"I'll take a water, if that's okay," I finally said. I kept staring at her choker. I'd never had a conversation with a Pokemon before. I'd heard stories about nic nacs that allowed them to talk. Talker Collars, someone once called them. Was she using some sort of choker that allowed her to speak?

Why not ask her? I thought. The idea of willingly engaging in a conversation with a Pokmeon was also quiet foreign to me. If my mother was still alive it probably would have sent her right back to the grave. Her son, talking to a demon.

The Chansey wandered off to the back, going in the same door as the lady at the front desk had gone in. Within seconds, she was back out and around the desk to face me. She extended a water bottle to me. I took it gingerly, giving an unsure smile.

"Thanks," I said.

"Of course!" she chirped merrily. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

Sure, I wanted to talk to her- really about anything. I'd never had the opportunity before. Or at least I never thought I did. Tonight was weird enough as it was. Why not make it weirder by talking to a Pokemon?

"So, do you work here?" I asked. A stupid question I soon amended. "I mean, do you work here by your own will or are you forced?"

She gave me a curious look, then finally broke free of it with a smile.

"Oh, I work here on my own will," she told me. "The Pokemon Center Foundation assigns Pokemon such as myself to work for any of the Pokemon Centers I so choose. I grew up in Pallet, and love the people. Sure, it's a small place, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else!"

I had so many other questions I wanted to follow up with, but didn't. The lady from before stepped out from the back door, holding the Pokeball in her hand.

"Everything's all set," she said. She extended it to me, as if expecting me to take it.

I just stared.

"Um..."

"You saved her," she told me. "And yes, it's a her."

Part of me figured that, considering the circumstances in which I found her in. Unless those kids really didn't care where they stuck their things in.

"I don't... Um..."

The Chansey and the lady looked at one another, and then to me.

"Is something the matter?" the woman- the regular human woman- asked me. I shrugged.

"I just... I've never had a Pokemon before," I admitted. She blinked.

"Oh." From the looks of things, she didn't know what else to say. "Well, have you considered having one?"

I stared at the Pokeball.

"Well, not exactly. I grew up sorta... different." I paused, seeing the bewildered expression that both the Chansey and the lady behind the desk had. I sighed, knowing I was going to have to explain something in order for them to stop looking at me like some kind of weirdo. "I grew up with a mom that thought Pokemon were the creation of the devil. Not that I believe what she said, but she sorta... drilled it into my mind that Pokemon shouldn't be something to mess with."

The woman behind the desk let out a laugh.

"Oh, one of those," she said. "Well, that's not entirely uncommon. I've heard a few stories about it. My family is sorta the same. My bothers and I grew up with a mom like that. Our dad ended up leaving her for a Pokemon, ironically enough."

I continued to look over the Pokeball in her hand. I hadn't realized that I treated them like grenades thanks to my mom. It wasn't until then that I realized how off putting they were to me. For what reason? Other than my mom pounding it into my mind that they were bad, that was about it. I'm a little embarrassed by how uneasy I was when reaching out for it.

"If you don't take her, we can try to find her a good home," the lady at the desk said. "But she's not a top candidate."

I looked up to her, still holding the Pokeball. The Chansey lady at this point had wondered off, making sure that the rest of the guests at the ungodly hour of night were taken care of.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," the woman began, "for starters, she's not very strong. She's a level 2."

"I beg your pardon?" I questioned, not sure what a "level 2" even meant.

"You really don't know much about Pokemon, do you?" the lady said with a laugh. "Well, it pretty much means she's just barely stronger than a normal dog. Which isn't very impressive in terms of Pokemon. Here-"

The lady behind the desk extended something else my way. It was a Holly Band. It was an off colored cream color, with the screen scratched in places.

"This is from the lost and found. Somebody lost this a while ago and hasn't shown up for it. I figure you can get some use out of it instead."

I took it instinctively, not really sure why. I suppose it's a human reaction to just take what we're given, in both a literal and metaphorical sense.

One hand holding a Pokeball and the other holding a Holly Band, I really didn't know what to do with either of them. I must have looked pretty awkward from how the lady behind the desk responded. She stood up from the chair once more, taking both from me and setting them on the counter that separated us.

"Let's just start with the basics," she told me. "Go ahead and put that Holly Band on your wrist."

I didn't bother to argue with her, just doing it. I pushed back the sleeve of my hoodie to strap on the device, feeling it vibrating for a second.

"Don't freak out," she eased. "It's just getting a read of your vitals and linking up with you."

That sounded more unsettling than I wanted to admit, but I wasn't about to rip it off when it was doing... whatever it was doing. The screen suddenly lit up with text in the center.

No Active Pokemon, it read.

I lowered my arm, looking to the lady.

"Now what?" I asked. She grabbed the Pokeball with the Poocheyena inside of it, turning it around. There was a small button on the back, with a strange looking nob below it. It had five notches, the little piece of plastic below the button set in the middle. There was a green maker that ran down below where the little nob-thing was. On the far left was a blue line that ran down. On the far right was a red line. Between the red and the green mixed, creating a yellow line that ran down the back of the ball. The notch between blue and green created a sort of sky blue color.

"I think it would be best to keep the Will Meter set on 0.5" she told me. "Or just Green. Whatever is easier to call it."

I didn't know what that meant, but I just accepted it.

"So... I guess I have a Pokemon now," I said a little surprised, taking the Pokeball from her.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked.

I wasn't sure what to start with.

"I'm not sure I understand anything about this," I admitted. It made her smile. She went back to rummaging through the drawer she'd been pulling everything out of. I had to wonder if it was some endless portal that pulled out anything she needed when she needed it. She seemed to be pretty prepared.

"Here," she said, handing over a booklet. It was small and rectangular, kind of like the small books my mom would pick up from her church when I was a kid. You know the ones- they talk about burning in hell almost constantly. They terrified me when I was younger.

Hell, they still scare me, and I'm not even religious anymore.

"Read it over," she told me. "If you have any questions, just come back and see me. I'll be more than happy to explain."

I gave a nod out of habit, somehow accepting the fact that I wasn't going to kill myself that night.

No, instead I was going to obtain my first Pokemon ever. A part of me felt excited. I had always wanted to be a Pokemon Trainer when I was younger. Until my mom preached the idea out of me.

"Will do," I said. "I never got your name."

"I never got yours," the lady smiled.

"I'm Wesley," I told her. "But everyone just calls me Wes."

I extended my hand out to her. She brushed her short hair aside from her face. Her dyed orange bangs were pushed aside, her dark hair reflecting some of the light of the Pokemon center.

"It's nice to meet you, Wes," she said. "I'm Amber."

I glanced at the Holly Band on my wrist, seeing that it displayed the time. Geez, it was getting late.

"Before you go," she told me, "you should probably resister your new Pokemon to you."

I raised an eyebrow, curious.

"And how would one go about doing that?" I asked. She pointed to the larger button on the back of the ball.

"Just press your thumb against it and it'll prick it. It takes some of your DNA and registers the Pokemon in the ball to you. Neat stuff, am I right?"

"Yeah, it kinda is," I told her. Without hesitation, I pricked my thumb. I didn't hurt all that bad. But wasn't enjoyable either. A little icon popped up on my screen. It was an 8-bit imagine of a dog that was supposed to represent my Pokemon. It read "Poocheya" with a little shield by her name. I knew enough about things to know that meant, by default, she was my active shield. Anything that would harm me would harm her instead.

"I'd stay and ask a long series of questions," I told her, "But I have to work tomorrow."

"Oh?" Amber said, curious. "Where do you work?"

"At the Pokemart," I admitted. She looked rather surprised.

"Really?" she said. "My aunt works there."

I couldn't help but succumb to my curiosity.

"Who's your aunt?" I asked.

"Her names Janet," Amber told me. "She's kind of a bitch."
"Yep, I definitely know her," I said. "I'm sorry you're related to her."

Amber sighed.

"Yeah, me too." She slouched forward on the front desk, resting her arms beneath her. "She was easier to tolerate when I didn't have to live in the same town as her. Believe it or not, I haven't always worked in this town. I used to work in Pewter City for a while. I bounce around quiet a lot, but now it looks like I'm working here."

We exchanged small talk for a little while before I told myself I had to go. It was almost four in the morning. I needed to get home before the sun came up.

"I'll probably see you tomorrow," I told her. "I know pretty much nothing about having a Pokemon."

"Well," she said, standing up once more from the desk, "when you get home, I advise you to let her out of her ball. Pokemon who've been through traumatic events tend to do better when they're not inside their Pokeballs. They do much better when out with their trainer."

I guess I'm a trainer now, was all I could think.

"She's not gonna... try and eat me, is she?" I asked sheepishly.

Amber laughed in response.

"No, I don't think so. Pokemon, even the extremely dangerous ones, don't turn on their trainers. The worst they usually do is refuse to listen. You'll be fine."

After a few more minutes of small talk, and a promise that I'd be there after work the next day, I said goodbye and headed for home.

It was nearing five in the morning when I finally made it back into my studio apartment. I tossed my keys onto my desk near my computer monitor, missing the small bowl I'd left out for said keys to stay in. Rarely did I ever make my mark, and I never made an effort to take the time to actually place them inside said key dish.

I instead went right to my bed, flopping down on my back, Holly Band still on my wrist.

I felt the revolver bump into me, still inside my hoodie pocket.

I was really going to go through with it, I thought to myself, carefully unloading the gun and putting the hammer back in place. I put it back in the drawer, closing it lightly shut. I was really going to go through with it.

But I didn't. For whatever reason, I didn't.

I was too tired to question any of it.

Instead, I stared at the Pokeball in my hand. I wasn't sure how it all worked, but I winged it, going through the motions I saw other Trainers go through when wanting to send out their Pokemon. I lobbed the ball with an underhanded toss, watching it bounce against the floor. The ball snapped open, flying back to my palm like a boomerang.

A flash of red blinded me, not letting me see how the Poochyena formed, now standing by the foot of the bed in front of me.

She no longer looked injured, however the small bit of her ear that she was missing before had not returned. I chalked that up to being some kind of birth mark that couldn't be fixed. The Pokemon sat there in front of me, just staring. She had the biggest, most curious eyes I've ever seen. She cocked her head almost to a 90 degree angle, looking me over. I was doing the same to her.

She had a somewhat bushy tail behind her, and her eyes were a solid red color. Not like a bloodshot red- but her irises were red.

A demon! I could hear my mother's voice crying. The eyes of a demon!

Well, if she really was a demon, she was an adorable one.

"I guess I'm your new trainer," I told her.

"Pooch," she said in response. I had to wonder-

"Can you understand me?" I asked.

"Pooch," she responded. That didn't really clear anything up.

"Can you nod your head for me?" I asked. "Just so I know you can understand?"

Without any further instruction, she nodded her head a few times to show that she, in fact, did understand me. I didn't know much about Pokemon, other than the fact that they're supposed to be evil demons according to my dead mother. But she seemed to calm. And innocent. She wagged her tail, not taking her eyes off of me. She seemed happy to be in my presence.

"Truth be told," I said to her, "I wasn't expecting to become a trainer tonight."

"Poochy!" she barked, wagging her tail even harder. She stood up from her sitting position, edging closer to me. She looked up, as if cautious of doing so. I tensed up. The horror stories from my childhood flooded back to me as she edged closer to my foot to sniff.

A little boy was found eaten alive in the woods! I heard my mother's voice cry. They could hardly recognize him after those devil birds pecked away at him!

Her snout touched my shoe, giving a little sniff. I watched her tail start to wag again. She looked up at me, not pulling her gaze away. Almost mesmerized.

"Pooch!" she barked.

"I have no idea what you're trying to tell me," I told her. I glanced at my Holly Band. Next to her icon that was dancing about on screen, a small footnote pulled up.

Your Pokemon is HUNGRY.

I wasn't sure if the word hungry in all caps meant she was more hungry than just sorta hungry. None of this made much sense, but I rolled with it.

"You want something to eat?" I asked her. Her tail went into a sort of hyper speed, to the point I could barely see it. I felt something inside of me feel uneasy. Such a cute gesture made me lower my defenses a bit. I couldn't explain why. Such an odd feeling.

"I take that as a 'yes.'" I said with a smile. I got up from my bed, soon rummaging through my fridge. What the hell did Pokemon eat?

I saw my leftover hibachi in the takeout box.

I made sure to look up if it was safe to feed it to her on my phone. Sure enough, it was. I was a little surprised to find that she was more inclined to eat things than I was. I looked down at her, watching as she spun in circles. I knelt beside her, holding the takeout box in my hand.

"You want me to warm this up?" I asked her. "I don't know how you feel about hibachi, but- HEY!"

She knocked the box out of my hand, dropping it onto the floor. I couldn't get mad at her from the way she went to work eating it. It didn't matter if it was on the floor or in the box- she ate every bit of it. Every vegetable, every little piece of chicken, and even all the rice. It was gone in a matter of seconds. When she was done, I heard her let out a relaxed "Pooch", flopping onto her side. Her tail was still wagging, but slower than before. She looked sleepy.

"At least I don't have to clean anything up," I chuckled, picking up the takeout box before she ate that too. I tossed it in the trash, throwing it across the room and making it into the can by the refrigerator.

I didn't waste any time stripping down to my underwear, pulling my covers aside so I could slip into bed.

To my surprise, the Poochyena hopped up onto the bed, standing at the foot of it.

I'd already moved underneath the covers, watching as she tip toed her way near me.

"You want under the covers?" I asked her, unsure. She nodded. I shrugged. "Okay, sure."

She wiggled her way underneath, nestling her small body beside me. She was the size of a small lap dog, and her fur was surprisingly warm.

I turned the lamp on my nightstand off, letting the darkness consume my apartment.

My arm wrapped around her tiny body.

I don't remember falling asleep.